


Wedding Date

by Lovedmoviesb



Series: So, You’ve Got a Crush On Spider-Man... [5]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Spideychelle, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 06:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovedmoviesb/pseuds/Lovedmoviesb
Summary: Family events are...complicated. Especially when you’re Spider-Man and the whole world knows it. Good thing Peter has allies in his corner.





	Wedding Date

“You remember the plan?” It must have been the tenth time he asked, but he couldn’t curb the impulse. 

Peter fumbled with the length of silk in his hand, picking at the poorly-tied knot. With a groan, he began again, rewinding the video on his phone. From her place near the door, MJ gave him a pitying look, tilting her head in his direction. 

“Peter,” she sighed, walking towards him. “Here.” She reached for his tie, smoothing it flat. 

“I can do it--”

“I know you can,” she said, shrugging. “But I can do it faster.” As though to prove her point, she twisted her wrists in quick succession, executing the windsor knot he’d been working on for the better part of 15 minutes. 

“Thank you,” he muttered, studying it in the mirror. 

She nodded absently, moving the tie up around his collar before smoothing them both flat. “You look handsome,” she complimented, appraising him. 

He flushed, despite his worries, momentarily disarmed by her praise. “You look beautiful,” he said in return. Perhaps one day he might be able to compliment her without feeling like a nervous child, but it was not this occasion. MJ’s hair was down, the curls long and thick, framing her face. She hadn’t bothered with much makeup, but the crimson of her lipstick was striking along with her eyeliner. The coral fabric of her dress ended just above her knees. He skimmed his fingertips along the backs of her thighs. 

“Thanks,” she smiled, kissing his cheek. She laced her hands against the nape of his neck. 

He grinned back for a moment before sobering. “But MJ, remember what we talked about?”

“The plan?” she nodded, moving away. “I remember.”

“If something happens--”

“It won’t Pete.” 

“MJ, please. If something happens--” 

“Peter,” MJ began to pack her clutch, sliding her phone and ID inside. “It’s a wedding. Nothing is going to happen.” She sounded so sure, so confident. Peter wanted to believe her. 

“Michelle,” he walked towards her, stilling her movements. She froze, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. He wished for a moment that he wasn’t wearing this suit jacket, missing the feel of her skin against his. He settled for running the palms of his hands up her bare arms. “I know we don’t want anything to happen,” he said lowly. “But it kinda always does. And people know me now, they know May, and you--”

She turned in his arms, cupping his chin between both of her hands. “Peter,” she began slowly. “I know. And I remember.” 

Her touch was soothing despite the incessant buzzing in his brain that something was bound to go horribly wrong. It happened more often than not now, with his cover blown. 

“It’s been two years,” she reminded him, voice steady. “We’ve done this before.”

“I know,” he leaned his forehead against hers, needing this moment of calm, willing her words to be true. 

“May is getting married,” MJ continued, smiling. “You’re giving her away. This is supposed to be happy.”

“I am happy,” he assured her. 

“Say it with me,” she instructed, drumming the tips of her finger along the curve of his jaw. “We’re Happy for May and Happy.”

He rolled his eyes, but found himself chuckling. “We’re happy for Happy and May,” he repeated. 

“Good,” she kissed him again, lingering this time. Peter held her tight, slanting his lips over hers. “We’re going to enjoy ourselves,” she instructed, mumbling against his mouth. 

Peter jerked her closer still, deepening their kiss until she sighed. “I’m enjoying myself,” he joked, letting his hands begin to wander. 

MJ laughed, slapping him away. “C’mon,” she prompted. “We’ve gotta wash that lipstick off your face before we go.” She wiped at his skin, staining his cheek in a crimson streak. Clucking her tongue in disapproval, she reached for her little clutch, retrieving a small moist towelette. Peter stood dutifully still as she fussed with him. Satisfied, she pulled away from him to correct her lipstick, reapplying the lipstain. 

“Do you have everything in that purse of yours?” Peter asked, chuckling as MJ side-eyed him. 

“You never know what you need,” she zipped the bag up. “Besides,” she gestured to the webslingers on his wrists, disguised as a watch and black banded bracelet. “Pot calling the kettle,” she pointed out. 

“Touche,” Peter conceded. He didn’t feel the need to mention that he had his uniform on beneath his suit. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her to finish. 

“Ready, Tiger?” MJ asked, straightening up and reaching for him. 

Peter followed dutifully, keeping her hand in his. The brief moment of ease dissipated quickly. The little chapel was secure enough, way out from the city. He hadn’t been upstate since Mr. Stark’s funeral, and it seemed the pain hadn’t lessened much. He swallowed thickly, attempting to calm himself, to assure himself that an ambush wasn’t about to happen. All of the people he cared about in the world were here-- May, Ned, Happy, and MJ. Pepper was here too, with her daughter, and all of May’s friends and coworkers. The more people who filed in, the more his anxiety grew. 

“Peter,” MJ squeezed his hand. She offered him a small smile, pushing a wayward lock of hair back into place behind his ear. “It’s time,” she told him. 

He released her just long enough to walk May up the aisle. His aunt looked lovely, ethereal even as she took his arm. 

“Can you believe it?” May whispered, delighted. She peeked through the door to where Happy was waiting for her. The skirt of her long cream-colored dress swirled around her ankles. Peter straightened the crown of flowers on May’s head. MJ had made it in the car on the way over, a bundle of bodega bouquets in her lap transforming before his eyes. He thought, perhaps, that this was her superpower--her ability to make anything more beautiful just by being there. 

Peter mustered a grin, “I’m happy for you May,” he told her, kissing her cheek. 

“Pun intended?” she quipped. 

“Pun intended,” he confirmed, his smile widening.

May took his arm, balancing her bouquet in her other hand. “Thank you for being here,” she said. “I know it’s hard now that--” she cleared her throat. “Well, it won’t always be hard,” she amended. “Tony did ok.”

That thought comforted him somewhat. “I wouldn’t miss it, May,” he assured her. 

Peter meant it, especially when he got to place May’s hand in Happy’s, got to take his spot again by MJ, with Ned on his other side. The ceremony went quickly, almost too much so. Peter was aware of Happy starting to cry, of the oohh’s and ahh’s of the captive audience, of the pressure of MJ’s hand wrapped around his own. He was also acutely aware of all of the exits and windows, of the sounds going on outside the chapel, of the faces of everyone around them. 

“Come dance with me,” MJ requested. She pulled him towards the dance floor. Any other time, Peter might have been impressed by the beauty of the venue May chose, the ancient pines, the way the light played through the branches and splashed across the guests below. Instead, he peered through the trees, clocking their surroundings. Ned was dancing with one of May’s work friends a few meters away. May and Happy were in the center, arms wrapped around one another, their guests watching and swaying around them. 

“Pete,” MJ prompted gently. “Are you with me?”

He snapped to attention, flushing guiltily. “I’m with you,” he assured her. 

She stepped towards him, draping her arms over his shoulders. Peter wrapped his arms around her waist. He fell into step, moving with confidence born of hours of practice with May. Half a dozen school dances had come and gone without him being able to put them to use. 

“I like this song,” MJ smiled to herself, turning to glance at the DJ. 

Peter pulled her closer, heart clenching. He caught one of her hands in his own, twirling her so that he could dip her. MJ laughed in surprise. He grinned back. 

“Betcha didn’t know I could dance,” he teased, spinning them. 

MJ easily kept pace. “I mean… I know you have rhythm,” she fired right back, a mischievous look crossing her face. She pressed her hips against his. 

Peter blushed, glancing around. “Michelle,” he warned, nervously eyeing both May and Ned, mere feet away. 

MJ laughed. “Relax,” she instructed, leaning her head against his shoulder. 

Peter kissed her, holding her close. They rarely had occasion or opportunity for things like this, for dressing up, for being out in public. Even dates were often confined to secure spaces. He licked his lips. “I’m sorry,” he began, “that we never got to dance at prom, or homecoming, or--”

“Shhh,” MJ silenced him kindly. “I’m not much of a dance person, Pete. Don’t worry about it.” She smiled at him, kissing his cheek. 

Peter swallowed. “It doesn’t mean I didn’t want to do those things,” he mumbled into her hair. “With you.”

MJ craned her head up, her dark eyes finding him. She cupped his chin in her palm, “I wanted to too,” she admitted. “We’ve gotten to do some other cool things, though.”

“Like what?” he asked, the corner of his lips quirking up. 

“We kick a lot of ass together. Like...a LOT of ass,” MJ responded at once. “How many couples can say that?”

Peter laughed. “Only a few,” he admitted. 

“So we missed some dances,” she shrugged. “We’re here now.”

Peter hugged her tighter. “Yeah,” he agreed, pressing his cheek to hers. 

The reception unfolded one tradition at a time, and Peter relaxed marginally as each one rolled by. He danced with MJ, smiled at May and Happy, laughed with Ned, and managed to ignore the eyes of nearly everyone at the reception sneaking glances at him. 

“It’s me,” MJ whispered in his ear as the cake was being served. “I knew this dress would be too much for them, but I thought, what the hell.” She shook her head, her face the picture of false contrition. “I’ll tone it down next time.”

Peter laughed, winding an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him. “Don’t do that,” he begged her, toying with the skirt of her dress. 

“I’m going to go catch the bouquet,” MJ told him, watching as the crowd gathered around May. “Normally, it’s a sexist tradition, but your aunt is a total badass, and men are in there too. Happy told me that they hid 50 bucks in the flowers.” MJ grinned, a mischievous expression on her face. “Want to come throw elbows with me?”

“You go ahead,” Peter released her. “It’s not really fair if I play.”

“Suit yourself,” with a kiss on the cheek, she was gone, grabbing Ned as she rushed forward and into the fray. Peter watched, laughing as the crowd jockeyed for position, winking at his tall, lovely girlfriend as she put her game face on. The bouquet went soaring, and the crowd leapt into action, pushing clasping at the empty air. MJ’s slender brown fingers wrapped around the stems, yanking the blossoms down and to her chest. Her curls bounced around her head and there was a flush to her cheeks, exhilaration in her eyes. She looked at him from her place in the crowd, smiling brightly. Peter felt his heart skip a beat. 

For a moment, Peter mistook the goosebumps racing up his arm as his MJ’s doing. He snapped to attention, arms out, ready for the impending attack. Instead, he was met with the sight of a cell phone camera millimeters away from his face. 

“Can’t believe you have the balls to show yourself out here, Spider-Man,” the owner of the phone sneered. “Jameson was right about you. You’re shameless.”

Peter recognized the woman at once from May’s office at work. The first time they’d met, he’d been in costume and she’d been begging him to come to their fundraiser. Now, she was clearly a few glasses of wine in, and had no qualms about berating him. 

“Miss--” Peter began, hands shielding his face. 

“Well?” she interrupted. “What do you have to say for yourself?” the woman demanded. 

She never got her answer. MJ reached them, and bodily put herself between Peter and the woman. 

“Back off,” MJ’s tone had lost all hint of mirth. “Or I’ll give you something to film.”

“Oh yeah?” the woman challenged, waving her phone towards Michelle. 

MJ answered by smacking the bouquet cleanly over the top of her adversary’s head. Flower petals showered the area around them. Someone screamed, whether from fear or delight, Peter couldn’t tell. 

Peter let out a shout of surprise, grasping Michelle around the waist and pulling her back. Ned was nearby, confiscating the phone as security converged on them. 

“This is a phone free event,” Ned announced, handing the device over to one of Happy’s associates. Ned turned to look back to where Happy and May were waiting anxiously. He gave Happy a nod. “Nothing to see here, folks,” Ned announced, waving his hand. 

The crowd looked on, bewildered. MJ stood calmly in Peter’s arms, still glaring at the woman now having a heated argument with security as they escorted her out. A deafening silence settled over the crowd. 

“Who wants cake?” May announced suddenly. 

“I do,” Ned answered cheerfully. He patted Peter on the back as he walked past them, plucking a petal absently from the sleeve of Peter’s suit jacket. Someone restarted the music, and slowly, the wedding got back on track. 

Peter released MJ. “Maybe I should go,” he began. 

“We’re not going anywhere without cake,” MJ paused to snag a folded $50 bill off the ground, tucking it into her bra without pause. “May got a dark chocolate layer just for you, you know.” She kissed his cheek as though nothing were amiss, took his hand, and steered him over towards the tables. 

He scarcely tasted the cake in his mouth, scarcely saw May and Happy depart in a wave of well-wishes, scarcely heard the comforting words Ned offered, or registered the car that took them to the Avenger’s facility for the night. It wasn’t until MJ tugged him into his room and locked the door behind them that Peter found it in him to speak. 

“MJ--” he began, apologies on the tip of his tongue.

“Peter,” MJ held up a finger. “I need you to do a few things for me tonight, ok?” She looked at him expectantly. 

“Alright,” his apology died in his throat. 

MJ nodded. “One,” she began to list off, stepping closer to him, “Stop blaming yourself for what idiots do. Ok?”

Peter swallowed. “Ok,” he agreed. 

“Two,” MJ continued. “You didn’t ruin the wedding. If anything, no family party is complete without a fight, and I got to hit someone with a bouquet. Frankly, it’s a miracle that’s the first time that’s happened.”

Peter smiled a bit. “Good point,” he admitted. 

“I know,” MJ stepped closer to him. “And three.” She paused, toe to toe with him. “We may not have gone to prom,” she said. “Or graduation parties, or keggers, or all the other things people tell you are important to do when you’re a teenager, but I need you to know something.”

He reached for her, pulling her into a hug. “What’s that?” he asked, leaning his forehead against hers. 

“I love you, Peter Parker,” MJ’s eyes met his. “And there’s no one on Earth I’d rather beat old ladies up at a party for.”

A laugh escaped him, even as every nerve ending in his body came suddenly alive. “Michelle,” he choked on her name. 

She kissed him, holding him tightly, drowning his senses in her alone. Adrenaline filled him. It wasn’t until MJ let out a little squeal of surprise that he even realized he’d picked her up. 

“I love you too,” he promised her, slanting his mouth back over hers. MJ wrapped her legs around his waist, the same as she did when he was swinging her around the city. This time, he walked her backwards, deeper into his bedroom. 

“Peter Parker,” MJ pulled back, speaking against his lips. “Are you trying to seduce me?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he answered, his steps not faltering. “I am.”

“Then by all means,” MJ began to kiss his cheek and neck, “seduce away.”

They fell on the bed, her purse clattering as it went flying to the wayside, it’s contents spilling across the plush surface. Peter reached for the taser he’d made her from old alien tech, sitting it cautiously on the bedside table. 

“Thank God you used the flowers first,” he joked. “I think you would have shocked people.” He sifted through the rest of her belongings, pausing when his hand found a small foil square. 

“What? MJ asked. “You think you’re the only one with plans?” she sat up, tugging on the tie she’d helped him with earlier. “Get over here, you dork.” 

Peter obeyed.


End file.
